The Thing That Should Not Be
by Gosangoku
Summary: Alfred F. Jones was just your regular kid with a knack for baseball. But when a shinigami literally just falls out of the sky and the line separating living and dead is shattered, he's forced to act... — US/UK/US.
1. through the rabbit hole

/ _**the thing that should not be**_ /  
brought to you by;  
**./ **_**g o s a n g o k u**_** /.**

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./ _Fearless wretch  
Insanity  
He watches  
Lurking beneath the sea  
Great Old One  
Forbidden site  
He searches  
Hunter of the shadows is rising_ /.

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**Chapter title:** / _i. __through the rabbit hole_ /

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**Chapter rating: / **_T_** /**

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Pairings: / _USxUK/UKxUS (main)_ / _GreecexJapanxTaiwan_ / _FrancexSeychelles_ / _forbidden!FrancexCanada_ / _CanadaxUkraine_ / _LithuaniaxBelarus_ / _etc. _/

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Extended summary: / _Alfred F. Jones is just your average school boy with average grades and an average love for sports. But when someone literally falls out of the sky and into his arms, he soon finds himself figuring out what's real and what's not! Will he be able to overcome the sudden alternate reality? Or will he have to get stronger to live? After he's thrown into the world of the supernatural, he can't rely purely on his baseball skills to pull through..._ **/**

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**Shout out****:  
**_**Special thanks to**_**;**_  
_/ _Norite-Kinen_ /  
_**This chapter is for you!**_** :)  
**  
**O-o-O-o-O**

_**America, twelve years ago...**_

**O-o-O-o-O**

_It was a beautiful day. There was not even a single cloud in the magnificent azure sky that stretched over the peaceful land for miles and miles. Sakura trees were drifting and dancing in the gentle breeze; cicadas were humming a happy tune; children's jubilant laughter could be heard in the distance; it was simply a wonderful day._

But in spite of the content landscape and leisurely atmosphere, one young boy was rushing home as fast as he could. He gasped for breath, throat aching as his heart pounded fretfully and his legs pumped fearfully and furiously, ignoring the strange looks others sent him and dismissing people's faux concern.

"Isn't that the Jones boy...? What's he doing? He usually stops to eat before going home."

"I often see his mother waiting for him around the market somewhere... I don't see her today. Do you think something happened...?"

He felt his eyes sting as the wind whipped at his face, which was reddened from exertion. He didn't stop even though he was tired, though - he knew he had to get home. He could just... feel_ it somehow... It felt like the wind was telling him to hurry, the gentle, comforting but warning breeze whispering past his ears; like there were cold and slimey hands trying to grab at his legs. He forced himself onwards and soon found himself throwing open his gate, dashing down his stone pathway and slamming open the door._

He immediately wished he hadn't.

He bearly took in the details of his blood-soaked floor and splattered walls, the organs strewn out across the carpet... his mother's and father's hands intertwined loosely like some kind of taunting image.

He felt bile rise up in his burning throat as his eyes stung. He staggered but prevented himself from falling over. He backed away shakily from the blood and from the twisted, unimaginable forms of his decapitated parents. He could hardly see. Everything was blur and it all swirled together until it made one colour - red.

He screamed. He ran. He fell.

Then, it all turned black.****

O-o-O-o-O

_**Japan, Tokyo, present day.**_

**O-o-O-o-O**

It started off as a pretty normal day. The city had a strange umber hue to it due to the low sun, and the sky was a similar orange colour with clouds seemingly drenched in a honey colour. Analogous to the warm colours, it was a fairly humid day, but not so much that it was uncomfortable. He was accustomed to warm climates, having lived in America for a good portion of his life. As such, he was at ease as he calmly walked to school, taking his stroll leisurely despite knowing he would be late. His adoptive father was in a high position anyway, so his teachers never really got too pissed at him for his disobedience. He pegged that on why he acted out so much. He didn't receive much attention from his adoptive father, so he seeked it out elsewhere. It worked, obviously. He was often kept behind due to misbehaviour, so the teachers definitely paid attention to him. He was on the baseball team and often played American football in his spare time, so he received lots of praise or competitive declarations from his classmates. He was pretty good-looking too, so plenty of girls approached him and requested dates with him often. In spite of that, he still felt kind of unfulfilled somehow.

His younger twin brother received more attention than he did from their father, and he was jealous at first. He was used to being the popular one. His brother was just the shy guy who was simply kind of there. Harsh, but true. But their dad seemed to like the timid boy more than him. Over the years, his envy had dulled to a low tinge of annoyance whenever their father called only to ask for Matthew. He just dismissed it and told Matthew that he didn't care.

It was different at school. Matthew studied tirelessly and obtained high grades along with his own friend Kiku. As for him, he was average at best. He definitely wasn't stupid. That wasn't the case at all. He got the top grades in exams, often even competiting with his friend Kiku who had been offered many prestigious scholarships. He was just uninterested in school and learning, often having bunked classes just because he couldn't be bothered. He sometimes didn't turn up because he wanted a lie in, or wanted to finish a new video game he bought. In spite of his dismissive attitude towards education, he was exceedingly dedicated to sports. He _always_ turned up for practice, even when the weather was bad or if he were sick. He never missed a game either, and he often got into fights with his brother or friends over what to watch on television. Most often, he won out and got to watch whatever game was on.

His thoughts slipped away as he paused outside of the boring, dull building that he visited near enough everyday. He shifted his lethargic gaze down to his gaudy wristwatch, realising he only had half an hour until first break. Shrugging and thinking it useless to go to class now and get his ear screeched off by Miss-What's-Her-Name, he decided to head to the roof and just throw his baseball until then when he could practice with Kiku.

He dragged his squeaky converse sneakers up the fire escape stairs and approached the roof, used to the ominous echo that the closed in corridor gave off. He shoved open the half-broken green door (one of the hinges had rusted off a while back, but the maintenance workers didn't seem to give a damn) and sucked in a deep breath as the dazzling warmth of the sun hit his tanned skin once more.

Dumping his brown bag on the floor, hanging up against the wall, he reached down and grabbed his glove and baseball out of it. He slid the glove on, inspecting the worn leather for a moment before tossing the ball. As he caught it and repeated the action countless times, his mind drifted off to thoughts of yester-year.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**A spirit world, present day.**_

Heart pounding inside his ribcage and breath blasting out furiously, he swerved around another corner. He didn't stop to think, or turn behind him, or to do anything. He just kept running. His legs were screaming in agony, praying for relief to just collapse and _rest_, but he clenched his eyes shut tight, ignoring the sting that the sweat caused them, and just _ran_.

He could feel his heart crashing angrily and the blood rushing through his system, and he could hear only his ragged breath as his agile footsteps carried him across the pitch black seemingly nonexistent ground. He tried to swallow, but found he was too dehydrated and simply had no saliva. He licked his dry, chapped and bleeding lips, grimacing at the salty taste.

A mocking chuckle sliced through the tense atmosphere and he willed his exhausted legs to go faster, _faster_. Every time one of his feet crashed against the dark floor beneath them, glistening white ripples flew out as far as he could see. If he weren't in a life and death situation, he would have admired the beauty of it. As it was...

"_You can run, little rabbit, but you cannot hide..._"

The owner of the sickeningly sweet voice gave a strange laugh that chilled him to the bone. Clenching his bloodied fists, he came to a halt. He knew he'd have to do this fast. He panted heavily as he held his hands out in front of him. The darkness before him remained invisible for a moment before a glistening green light sparkled into view in the shape of a staff. After a moment that seemed to be a lifetime, it finally became 3D. He grasped it tightly, knuckles turning white beneath the layer of blood that covered them. He knew he had to be quick, and a glance behind him assured him of that. He could see the black substance piling up on both sides like two separate tidal waves as an invisible force approached him.

He raised his staff as he leapt up as far as he could and, shouting a command in an ancient language, slashed at the darkness. There was a fretful pause, and he almost feared it hadn't worked. But then, suddenly, a huge green light flared again, tinting all of the black scenery a dark forest green hue. The light expanded, and he threw himself through the slashed gap in the darkness - but found he couldn't move. Glancing down worriedly, he saw some kind of black... _thing_... wrapped around his ankle. It looked almost like a hand, but more... wolf-like.

He tried to tear his ankle out of the painful grasp, but the hand only tightened its grip. He bit his lip with a grimance to prevent a cry of pain from escaping. He twisted and turned, trying to writhe out of its hold, panicking because his only chance at transport out of his hell hole was slowly disappearing.

"_You can't escape, little rabbit...!_"

New emotions suddenly heightened when he heard the infuriating voice. Fear. Fury. _Determination_. Sucking in a deep breath, he dived forward, ignoring the scream his muscles gave off as the hand grasping his ankle tried to pull him back, and he dove through the small gap left in the darkness. He gasped for breath, his throat too sore to scream, as the black claw-like hand clung to his painful leg. His vision was becoming blur and dark at the corners, but he could _not_ die on this mission! Letting out a hoarse cry, he lunged through the green light just as it disappeared.

After a while, the massive waves died down and reduced themselves to ominous ripples. The crashing sounds had now turned into a disturbing silence, but the darkness returned.

The owner of the voice smirked.

"_This is far from over, my little rabbit..._"

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Japan, Tokyo, present day.**_****

O-o-O-o-O

_One hundred and twenty two... One hundred and twenty three..._ Alfred counted inwardly as he threw and caught the ball over and over again. He paused to check his watch, flicking it when it paused in movement for an extended moment. _Still ten more minutes until break? Jeez..._ he thought in irritation, boredom taking over him completely. He gave a long-suffering sigh as he threw the ball again. He blinked in confusion when he saw a small shadow appear on the patio before him. Catching his ball again, he glanced up and squinted, wondering if he needed another eye test when he saw something falling. _The hell is that...? Some kind of bird? Maybe it's injured or something_, he thought uncaringly, glaring as he squinted. His frown deepened as the shadow got bigger along with the bird that was plunging down at a fast rate. _I wonder if it's dead_, he wondered in morbid fascination. However, as it descended, he realised with a mixture of horror and wonderment that it most definitely was _not_ a bird.

"Holy shit... It's a person!" he exclaimed, immediately heaving himself up as the person speedily approached the ground. He dashed forward to catch them and effectively save their life, holding his arms out to grab them. But as they slowly reached him, they seemed to slow down and hover in the air just above his arms for a milisecond before dropping into them. Alfred stared down at the guy who had just literally _fallen out of the sky_ in complete bewilderment and shock. _How could this guy just... fall outta the sky?_ He glanced up with wide, curious eyes. _I don't see no airplanes or nothing, so..._ He looked back down at the boy in his arms, suddenly realising he was drenched in blood. He suddenly felt sick.

_**Flash!**___

Blood splattered across the walls.

_**Flash!**___

Strange, hand-shaped marks on the floor.

_**Flash!**___

Pale, broken, bruised, bodies with blood seeping out onto the floor before them.

_**Flash!**__  
_  
Shuddering in revulsion, Alfred shook his head, shutting his eyes for a minute and berating himself. _Stop it, Alfred. Get it the hell outta your head, man_, he told himself angrily. Forcing open his eyes again, he stared at the frail, ashen boy in his arms, feeling somewhat of a sadistic masochist or something. Shaking his head, he told himself to react like any normal person in this situation. Instead of screaming, however, he calmly grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder before descending the emergency fire exit stairs to head to the infirmary, still unable to tear his eyes off of the pale boy in his arms.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

This story started off with a _**com-pah-lete-ly **_**different plot line! Despite that, I'm pretty happy with how this story's starting... The first plot line **_**was**_** kind of dark, but held an element of humour also. This one, however, is mostly simply dark. Oh, well. I hope you guys like angst and violence!**

**Heads up****! Don't automatically assume that Russia's the bad guy. ;) Well, no one is "innocent" in this story, but even so... -**_**smirks secretively**_**- Sorry, it may get a bit confusing... but not to worry. -**_**laughs**_**- It'll all be explained. :)**

_**YES**_**, Alfred **_**IS **_**a bit ****OOC**** at first because it just **_**compliments the plot line**_**. Not to worry. We'll have our lovable little brat featured often, just not yet. If it helps, Matthew's pretty much the same! ...Well, actually... He **_**acts**_** shy and stuff, but in actuality... ehh, not to worry, not to worry. You'll see for yourself. ;)**

Well, you can already see Alfred's messed up. :) Especially based on the memories of his you witnessed just before the end. Jeez. Cheer up, Emo Kid! -_**Slaps an Uchiha Sasuke sticker on Alfred's head... and then removes it**_**- Gah, I just hate Uchiha too much to lower you to that. YES I KNOW HE AND ENGLAND SHARE THE SAME VOICE ACTOR THANK YOU. :U I don't dislike the seiyuu. I dislike the character Sasuke. :) Kthxbai.**

I'm rambling. :( I'm sorry. Forigve meee. :( Or not then... I don't care! -_**angsts**_**-**

Thank you for reading the prologue of _**The Thing That Should Not Be**_**! A shout out thanks to **_**Kinen**_** for helping me decide on what title to use. Anyone know where it derives from? Hint: Many of my stories incorporate hints of where I got this title from.**

:) _**Thank you for reading**_**!**** :)**


	2. wolf meets vicious rabbit

/ _**the thing that should not be**_ /  
brought to you by;  
**./ **_**g o s a n g o k u**_** /.**

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./ "_The other day when I was walking through the woods, I saw a rabbit standing in front of a candle making shadows of people on a tree_." - _Stephen King._ \.

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**Chapter title:** / _ii. __wolf meets ferocious rabbit_ /

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**Chapter rating: / **_T_** /**

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**Shout out****:  
**_**Special thanks to**_**;**_  
_/ _Suzume Chiyu_ /  
_**Thank you for all of the reviews and for being my friend!**_** :)**

O-o-O-o-O  
  
_Laboured breathing. Blood dripping onto the cold darkness beneath him. Ripples of red. Crimson. Black. A smirk within the darkness. Approaching footsteps, echoing ominously. His heartbeat speeds up. He opens his eyes. He can't see. Vision impaired. It's dark. Red. Crimson. Black. Silky fingers grasp his chin and run over his skin leaving handprint marks imprinted on his pale, ashen flesh. A gasp, a hiss, a smirk. A slap, a kick, a moan._

Red. Crimson.

Black.

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Japan, Tokyo, present day.**_

**O-o-O-o-O**

Leaning forwards, Alfred appraised the unconscious man before him. He looked too pale to be healthy. But after falling out of the sky, who _would_ look look one hundred percent?

Alfred tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing slightly as he stared at the motionless figure lying buried beneath the thin cloth covers of the infirmary bed. He looked pretty small, and he was rather light when he carried him there. In spite of his smaller-than-average stature, he held some kind of... _vibe _or _aura _about him that made him appear so much more older and mature. Based on appearances, Alfred would say he looked a couple of years younger than him. But something about that just didn't feel right.

Shaking off his irksome and odd thoughts, the American inched forwards even more than he was before, examining the guy's face closely. He arched a brow when he noticed the rather impressively thick eyebrows the guy had. Hesitantly, Alfred reached out to brush the messy sandy blond bangs out of the pale face, feeling very wary and weirded out when he felt the other boy's flesh and soft hair. He didn't even usually touch his brother. It's why he preferred baseball over American football. He didn't like physical contact. It made him feel almost nauseous...

Once more dismissing his stray thoughts, his eyes glided over the pale face of the boy before him. He leant down further to check if the kid was still breathing. He just looked so unnervingly _still_. Much to his relief, he could hear very soft, faint breaths being emitted from the unconscious blond. He raised his head every so slightly, still disturbingly close to the smaller boy, watching his face intently for any sign of waking. When nothing happened, he let his guard drop just slightly.

When he had brought the guy into the infirmary, the nurse had acted normally, thinking he was a freshman she hadn't met yet. When Alfred told her he didn't know the guy's name, and that he couldn't find ID, she'd become worried. Instead of informing her of the real events as they didn't sound entirely, well, _realistic_, he told her traffic had made him late for school and he found the kid unconscious on the pavement outside the school gates. She easily accepted his story due to his frequent lack of punctuality and had immediately began assessing the boy.

Naturally, Alfred had been dumbfounded upon being told that the only harm the blond guy had were strange slash-like marks across his torso and back, and tonnes of handprint bruises up his legs, some of which being swollen, particularly at his ankles. He had instantaneously surmised that those wounds could not have been sustained by falling out of the sky from seemingly nowhere. Not that he knew of, at least.

Also apparently assuming the guy was Alfred's age or younger, the nurse danced around the subject of potential abuse. It was obvious as to what she was implying when he continually made very unrelated enquiries to Alfred, but as he felt she was unintelligent for asking him such personal matters about a boy the American had already informed her that he _did not know at all_, he'd let her babble on. She eventually grew tired of his short, uncaring responses and walked off, telling him to call when the boy woke up.

He was still covered in blood. Everything aside from his face, which the nurse had washed diligently with a cloth to check for any life-threatening injuries. Satisfied she hadn't found any, she'd dropped the blood-soaked cloth into a sink and left the kid covered in crimson. It made Alfred want to rid himself of the contents of his stomach, so he just stared intently at the boy's face rather than his body. But staring could only quench his short attention span for so long, and he soon found his morbid curiousity peaking. He was bewildered as to how someone could just _fall out of the sky_ from seemingly _nowhere_ miraculously without dying or, at the very least, becoming severely injured. It was mildly disturbing, but also intriguing. He blamed his thirst for trouble. He frequently participated in activities that could land him in unfortunate situations. He wasn't too sure why. Perhaps the adrenaline rush, the excitement, the euphoria. The lack of memory.

_Who _are _you...? _He thought, blinking away his foggy mind, and stared into the pale face of the unconscious boy. _How did you fall out of the sky and manage to live? Where did you even fall from?_ He shook his head, utterly befuddled and perplexed by the issue. "Who are you?" he wondered out loud.

Unsettlingly bright emerald eyes burst open, wide in horror, fury and fear for a moment and he sat up with incomprehensible speed, effectively knocking heads with his watcher. Alfred hissed, reeling back and grabbing his head, grimacing painfully as he cursed loudly inwardly. The other kid was not so controlling. He grasped his forehead and belted out curses for a split second before regaining himself. He sat up stiffly, glaring warningly, looking like a wary animal.

Both boys remained still ans frozen, wearing twin scowls, scrutinising one another and waiting to see what they would do. Apparently determining he wasn't a threat (_Mistake_, Arthur thought), Alfred's composure returned to him and he let his arm fall to his side. He frowned at Arthur in a strange mixture of disapproval and curiosity.

"You might not wanna move so fast," he muttered lowly. "You're pretty hurt." He scanned the other boy's face for the inevitable nervous disposition that his impolite and gruff manner usually inclined people to revert to, but it never came. Instead, the other boy just bristled like an angry wet cat.

"_You_ may not want to undermine the abilities of people you have not been closely acquainted with," the boy returned haughtily, still appearing defensive. He spared a hasty glance around the room before pinning the American with his piercing bright green eyes. "Where am I?" he demanded.

Affronted by the unusual lack of manners and forwardness the boy had retorted with, Alfred simply glowered. "Why should I tell you?" he replied in irritation, just feeling more annoyed for some reason when the boy's glare deepened. "You're pretty damn rude to the guy who saved your sorry ass."

"And you're rather rude to people in general I assume. I've not known you for five minutes and you hastily bestow your teenage angst upon me. Thank you, but I do not wish for such a _gift_." The boy snorted, folding his arms.

Alfred briefly turned away when the movement had caused him to notice the blood again. "All I said was that you should take it easy," he muttered, trying to keep a grip on his temper. _You take your anger out on the field, Alfred. Not on other people_, his foster father's words echoed in his mind. "You've got pretty nasty injuries." He looked back the guy, eyeing him suspiciously. "How'd you get 'em anyway?"

The boy didn't stiffen or react in any way Alfred would expect an abused kid to. Then again, Alfred didn't take psychology. "I do not believe that is any of your business," he drawled slowly, as if patronising him. "Now, if you don't mind, I must be on my way," he murmured, standing quickly. The only sign that he was in pain was the hasty blink, sucked in breath and quick clench of fists. He forced himself to relax, but he still seemed to fidget and suppress a wince occassionally. The boy glanced up at Alfred before scowling and grumbling something to himself. Sighing, he bowed lowly, and Alfred grimaced at how painful that must have felt. From what the nurse had told him, his torso and back were _not _in the best condition. And yet this guy was moving as if it were only a minor inconvenience. "Thank you for your help," the guy grumbled lowly. Alfred couldn't see the boy's face due to his low bow and long fringe.

When Alfred didn't respond for a prolonged, tense moment, the boy stood stiffly, licking his lips after accidentally letting a breathy gasp escape them. He swallowed again before inclining his head, and then glided past him. Reacting with surprisingly fast reflexes, Alfred managed to grab the kid's arm before he could leave the room. Both of them stilled, but Alfred was the one who found himself first.

"You can't leave," he said incredulously, eyes slightly wider than usual ad brows drawn together. "You're injured!"

The shorter boy attempted to tear his arm out of his grasp, and cursed his lack of strength. _Why bestow me with magical abilities? Why not insane strength? I'd currently favour it a substancial amount more_, he thought cynically as he closed his eyes against the onslaught of thoughts and the unavoidable migraine. "Yes, well, I've had worse," he grumbled, miffed. It was true, unfortunately. He just wasn't used to people giving a damn.

Alfred stared at him incredulously before shaking his head. He sighed a long-suffering sigh that made the smaller boy twitch in aggravation. "Look," he said seriously, glowering in irritation. "You're hurt and you can't stay at my school infirmary all day, but I can't let you just roam the streets until you bleed to death or commit suicide or whatever." Arthur raised a (thick) brow. "So, tell me where you live and I'll drive you home."

Arthur let out a huff of supreme annoyance, closing his fluorescent green eyes. "First of all, I'm not telling a kid like you, let alone a stranger, where I live. Secondly, I do not require an escort. Lastly, I bet a teenager like you will run red lights and get me arrested. As such, no, thank you. I will make my own way... _home_." _It's weird thinking of it like that..._

The American raised a brow at Arthur's sarcastic tone before rolling his eyes. "Okay, listen: I'm not a kid, I'm nineteen. I attend _university_. I'm financially stable and don't need to steal any of your stuff. I'm a competant driver although I don't do it often, and I have someone who picks me up anyways. Happy?" he snapped.

"No," Arthur replied bluntly, and then suddenly wrenched his arm out of the kid's hold. Both had forgotton about it. At least, until Arthur felt the strain on his muscle and the ache of his bruises. Both of them flushed slightly but didn't let themselves get distracted. "Besides," he continued quickly, "I live quite... far from here."

"How far is far?" Alfred enquired with a raised brow.

_Far as in you need some form of magic to get you there. Do you have a magical car that can delve into portals, dumbass? _"Abroad," he finally settled on, glancing down.

Alfred blinked in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. "But... aren't you in college or something?"

Arthur sputtered and glared angrily. "I'm _twenty three_," he hissed irately, blush deepening slightly. Out of anger or humiliation, Alfred didn't know. He assumed it was both judging by the clenched fists and averted eyes.

"Oh," he said, honestly surprised. He really looked a lot younger. He shook his head. "You on a business meeting then? Y'know what? Forget it. Just... where're you staying?"

"Er," Arthur said articulately, fidgeting nervously but stopping when it hurt. "Well... um... at... er..." _This is Japan, right? Just think of some accomodation locations they have here! It's been so bloody long since I've been in the real world though..._ He was rudely awakened from his thoughts by the shrill, deafening screech of the school bell. He jumped in surprise and glanced around wildly.

"Relax," Alfred said. "It's just the bell. I'm supposed to get back to class. But fuck it. Come with me, I'm skipping today," he decided, grabbing Arthur's wrist and dragging him out quickly, immediately being bombarded by students.

_It feels like dodgeball again_, Alfred thought wistfully.

_It feels like training again_, Arthur thought, aggravated, as he was roughly dragged through the crowd of rambunctious students.

Alfred uncaringly dragged the injured boy through the heard of hurried humans, rushed footsteps hitting the floor speedily as he dashed through the hallways, Arthur only managing to keep up due to his endurance training. Eventually, _finally_, they reached the front foors and escaped out into the fresh air and Arthur could breathe again. He staggered to a stop, feeling the strain on his ankles and his muscles stretching and pulling and it actually kind of hurt. He panted for breath, lungs burning like they had earlier.

_"You can run, little rabbit, but you can't hide...!"_

He shuddered at the echo in his mind and suddenly felt kind of dizzy and sick. He stumbled forwards and grabbed onto anything solid in front of him. He could hear only white noise, but everything was swirling together, all the colours blending into black...

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

Oh, Arthur. We know Alfred makes you swoon, but must you continuously pass out? It's ever so irritating.  
Then again, maybe Alfred shouldn't have dragged you through a hall full of students. Hmm.

Oh, yeah! Someone on dA guessed the origin of my title. _**The Thing That Should Not Be **_**is a song by my favoured band, **_**Metallica**_**! Congrats to EmoUchihaGirl246! You got it. ;)**

Hope you enjoyed chapter two. I was going to add the next scene, but I'm too tired and just kind of aggravated myself. I'll start writing chapter three tomorrow, so please stay tuned!

(_**The mental image of wolf!Alfred and rabbit!Arthur amuses me greatly. This could be potentially problematic...**_**)**

**Thank you for reading****!**


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